Finding the Dream
by AmandaFaye
Summary: The 8th Doctor takes a disheartened Grace on a trip at Christmas.


I own none of these people, the BBC and Fox do.

Finding the Dream

Christmas Eve, 2000

Dr. Grace Holloway could hardly believe her ears. Yes, she could hear the wheezing, whooshing sound that could only mean he had returned. She could hardly believe it, she had not dared to hope, but though she had only heard the TARDIS engines once, it was a sound she could never forget. Scarcely had she begun to head for the door when a blue light filled her living room, and a police public call box appeared beside the staircase and its door swung open to let a young man in Edwardian dress enter her home.

He looked around, then observed, "You've redecorated, Grace. Looks nice."

"Well, Brian DID take all the furniture," she reminded him.

"Right. I take it he hasn't returned?" the Doctor nodded, then gave her a curious look.

"No. He's not supposed to, is he?" Grace looked alarmed at the possibility. "Oh, I know you aren't supposed to tell me, but I really don't want him back, so I'd like to be prepared. Just a hint, maybe?"

"Grace, you just answered your own question," he smiled gently.

"Oh." She thought about it, then started to ask why he was back and how long he could stay, but before she could, he was speaking.

"So, Grace, how have you been? How goes the battle against death? Or is it a battle for life?" His head turned to contemplate her redecorating job again. "No tree? I thought it was Christmas time."

Grace sat down, gesturing for her visitor to do the same. "Right after you left, it was a battle for life, and it seemed to be going better, but - I lost a few rounds to death, and I think it's back to trying to defeat death. Pointless, huh?" Then, considering to whom she spoke, the surgeon amended, "Well, for most of us, that is."

"What about the tree?"

Grace just stared at the Doctor's honest, open face and shook her head. "Doctor, I'm a grown woman and I've seen too much to indulge in fake, fa-la-la-ing."

"But, Grace, Christmas is for everyone, even aliens and it is all about life and death, areas you are an expert in," he replied encouragingly. "Tell you what, come with me."

"I already told you - "

"Not on a long expedition," the Gallifreyan corrected her. "Just a short hop. I got an S.O.S. whilst on my way to see you, but I had a feeling that you might need to come along. You'll be back almost before you go, unless you decide to stay with me longer. Invitation's still open. Come on, please?"

Grace thought about arguing, but threw her hands in the air and said, "Why not?" Then, she allowed herself to be lead into the police box.

"Where are we going? _When_ are we going?" she asked as the door shut and the machine began to fade out.

"To see an old friend," the Doctor beamed. "Someone I don't think you've seen in a while, though."

"I know him? Her? Who?" Grace blinked.

"He goes by many names, but you call him Santa Claus." The answer was given so matter-of-factly that for a moment, it did not sink in, then Grace burst out in laughter.

"You are kidding? No, you aren't, are you? Is he- like you? That would explain how he, if he was real, could get so many places in one night, and how he'd live so long, but - it can't be. Can it?"

"It is. But, no, he's not a Time Lord. Sit down. We've time for a chat before we arrive," the Doctor gestured to a lush armchair in the console room. "Centuries ago, Christianity began to spread across your world, and the magical beings known as the Tuatha de Dannan recognized its power. Since they were hardly fools, they offered their natural, God-given gifts to one of the men who was known for the way he truly exhibited the fruits of his faith. St. Nicholas. They would give him elf magic, for want of a better term, so that his mission could continue throughout all time. He does utilize a primitive version of time travel to accomplish his journey, and that's why I'm on my way to see him. The sleigh's in need of an emergency tune-up and the elves have forgotten how to fix it."

"Oh."

"You don't believe me," the Doctor chided kindly. "That's all right. You will. Ah, here we are."

When the TARDIS door opened, Grace stepped out into a sunlit valley. "This isn't the North Pole."

"Of course not. It's the Hollow Hills. If the true locale for Santa was known, he'd never get any work done. Tourists would make it impossible to get anything done." The Doctor grabbed Grace's hand and lead her up a winding road to a splendid palace. A tall man who looked like an extra from Lord of the Rings greeted them.

"Doctor, you've regenerated again! Still got the curls, though," the elf grinned. "Do you like jelly babies in this life, still?"

"Absolutely," the Doctor nodded. "Hope you don't mind that I've brought a guest?"

The elf shrugged. "Fine by me. But, I'm not the boss. Still, I doubt he'll mind. Go on in."

The Doctor nodded, then said, "Come along, Grace."

She jerked her head in agreement and allowed herself to be pulled forward. This was all too incredible. So caught up in it all was she that she did not notice when a giant of a man, though he was not at all obese, came over to her companion.

"Ah, Doctor, right on time, as always," he boomed. "And Grace Holloway. My, but it's been ages since I could see you. I'm so pleased you came to see me!"

Grace's attention snapped back to reality, if it could be called that, to stare at the huge man. "Santa?"

"Yes, I do answer to that. What is on your heart?" Piercing blue eyes demanded an answer, or another question.

"I guess I should thank you for all the dolls and so on," she said politely, but the eyes would not let her get away with such a wishy-washy statement. "Why didn't you fix Mama?"

"Child, that is not my gift to give," the old saint replied sadly. "And, no gift I could give could ease that hurt. Your pain though, has helped others not have to ask such things quite so soon as they might have. I only give triffles, things to bring a moment's joy. Your calling carries on His work, more than mine does."

"They still die."

"Yes, but that's the price of being alive," Santa sighed. "For most of you. There are those who might like the rest, you know. But, my work goes on, or it will when the Doctor works HIS magic."

They had continued to walk as they talked until they reached a large garage type place where a sled sat waiting to leave. "May I borrow some tools?" the Doctor asked.

Santa Claus gave the Time Lord a look that plainly said he had to be kidding. "I believe there might be some tools around here, of some sort," he stated dryly as he walked to the sleigh's boot and opened it. "Just reach in and get whatever you need."

"You're sure it'll be there?" Grace asked.

"Of course. The trunk, as you would call it, on this machine, works on the same principle that the cauldron of Bran the Blessed did, to a degree. It is constantly filled, not with soup, but with whatever its user needs. At present, it will be filled with time tools. The sleigh's inner workings have functioned perfectly for a millenia, so frankly, all the elves focused on toy making, not mechanics. If they knew how to repair it, then the magic would provide what they needed and it would be done. We need the Doctor's mind to direct the magic, however."

"It's a simple fix," the Doctor mumbled. "Just recalibrate the time differential capacitor and align the directional modulator. All I need is - blast, I could do this blindfolded if the sonic screwdriver were with me. I'd like to box my fifth self's ears for letting it be destroyed."

"Number five was a kind lad, don't be too hard on him," Santa chided. "I think you'll find what you need, as you would know if you'd been listening instead of complaining. Don't make me put you on the naughty list, Doctor."

The Doctor chuckled and reached in to withdraw a tool he knew by touch alone. "Excellent!" he exclaimed and went to work. In five minutes, lights came on all over the sleigh and Santa let out a laugh.

"You did it! Good lad. Now, I need to be on my way. Even with time being flexible, I do like to keep on schedule. I know, very human of me. So sue me, Doctor. I am still human, simply enhanced." So saying, St. Nick began to move toward the sled to mount up and leave on his annual ride.

"I need to return your tools to the boot," the Doctor hastily and reluctantly began.

Nicholas waved him off. "Nonsense. You keep it. You've needed one for two lifetimes now. And Grace, thank you for making my list longer this year. Because of you, three children were born that would not have been given life because their parents would have died before they could be conceived and two children lived who would have died. I am always grateful to have more work."

Before she could formulate an answer, the sleigh disappeared.

"No reindeer?" the doctor asked forlornly.

"Sorry, Grace," the Doctor grinned. He looked down at his new "toy," a delighted smile blossoming on his face. "He's improved it! There's - a dozen or more new settings on it. I can hardly wait to save the world again so I can use it."

"I guess we have to go, then? Doctor, I don't suppose- could we go backwards a little? I think I want to actually have Christmas, after all," Grace asked hesitantly. "Maybe we could get a tree on the way home? A nativity? Or - some mistletoe?"

"Nativity? I could take you to see the real thing," he boasted. "First hand. No room at the inn and the whole nine yards. I can show you - two thousand Christmases and be back home in time for tea."

"I'll settle for one, per year, every year, from now on," Grace replied, taking his hand so they could return to the TARDIS. She kissed his cheek. "Thank you, again, Doctor. I will try not to lose my dream again."


End file.
